


Destiny

by AnselaJonla



Series: Prompt fills [52]
Category: Original Work
Genre: Gen, Prompt Fic, Prompt Fill, Reddit Prompts, r/writingprompts
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-25
Updated: 2020-07-25
Packaged: 2021-03-05 23:26:41
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 715
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25513519
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AnselaJonla/pseuds/AnselaJonla
Summary: A fic written for a prompt on the r/WritingPrompts subreddit:[WP] A Dragon's scales determine what kind of Dragon it will be, you are the first Dragon to be born with black scales in over a thousand years.
Series: Prompt fills [52]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1097823
Kudos: 2





	Destiny

There is meaning to our scales, for those who can read them. Our magical inclination is written in their colours, the milestones of our lives in their patterns. Every major achievement, every accomplishment, the good _and_ the bad are written there for all to see.

Dragons are simple, in a way. We cannot keep the secrets of our pasts from each other.

But we're also complicated. A dragonet is set upon its path as soon as the slime of the egg is cleaned off to reveal the gleam of its scales. Their whole life is arranged for them simply because of their colour. No consideration is given to what _they_ want.

That, by the way, is how you end up with a white-scaled healer with a hide that tells of as many lives taken as saved, of healing magic twisted and perverted to kill. A healer whom only the most truly desperate would seek out.

And you, young dragonet, are another tricky case. Born with scales darker than night, a black dragon of a kind unseen for a millennia. Shunned from the moment you were born, left to fend for yourself immediately upon hatching.

Black, you see, is believed to be evil.

You scavenged to survive, didn't you? From the midden and the compost heaps at first? Then, getting bolder, snatching the meals from smaller dragonets once you felt they'd had enough. Why should _they_ have full bellies when yours never was?

All the while you avoided the gaze of the adults. Venomous glances and whispered answers were the best and kindest treatment you could hope for. I see the scars on your hide, from claw and teeth and fire and blade. For one so young you've had a hard life.

Black is evil, after all. Why should evil have it easy?

It's a self-fulfilling prophecy, in a way. You're shunned, abused, given no reason to love your fellow dragons. And humans are no better, are they, for the way they blindly believe whatever they're told about you. You've been raised with nothing but hatred.

And yet I see no hatred in your eyes or on your hide. I see love, compassion, kindness. I see a dragonet who lets the smaller ones feed before stealing a fraction of their food. I see a nascent hunter who leaves most of what he's killed for the less capable. I see a protector who draws the attention of bullies to him, distracting them from those whom they were targeting.

Yes, little one, all that is written there. It's your _life_ after all. You'd find my childhood exploits somewhere on mine, buried under all the rest of it.

You're not the first you know, nor will you be the last. Buldrierur was the last black dragon, and he was mistreated as well. His name has been forgotten, but his deeds haven't. The razing of villages, the destruction of caves, the burning of crops. All manner of evils were laid at his wings.

All lies.

Oh, he wasn't perfect. No being is. But he wasn't _evil_. Not in his heart.

You see, the return of black scales means corruption. Not in you, little one. Never believe that _you_ are the corrupted one. Corruption in the heart of dragons and men, in the societies we've built. The world is safe, at peace, and that has allowed some to become weak and greedy. And it is they who fear you the most, because they cannot corral you into a pre-determined path.

You were born to upset the status quo. And somewhere in their hearts they know this, and it scares them, and they do what dragons do best: they lash out.

Rest here for as long as you need, childe. Sleep in peace, and eat your fill. I will not betray your hiding place. Nor will those who come to me for healing, the outlaws and outcast of society. For when you decide what you want to do with your life, it is they who will form the core of your followers.

As it was then, so it will be again. And I might not be able to fight alongside you, as I did with Buldrierur, but I will do what I can to support you. I swear it on magic itself.


End file.
